


Snow in Summer

by OnAWhim



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: academy au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6865225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnAWhim/pseuds/OnAWhim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jemma's past gets between her and Fitz, it will take an unexpected occurrence to bring them together. When the snow starts falling in summer, Fitz learns about Jemma's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eerie Silence and Tearful Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> My first fitzsimmons fic! This fic is brought to you by: *announcer voice* My Boredom, The Snow that Decided to Fall Today, and Listening to Grow Up by Paramore on repeat. Thanks for reading and please please please tell me what you think in the comments.

“Look, Fitz. Everyone’s leaving.” The other academy students were packing up their belongings in cars, aided by their relatives or friends. 

“At least when we leave, it won’t be as crowded.” He gestured to the absolute chaos visible out the window. From the fourth floor, the line of cars and piles of boxes crowding the lawn were easily visible. 

“Yeah. Your flight still on time for Thursday?”

“Yup, and yours on Wednesday?” he asked.

“It, uh, actually got delayed. Didn’t I tell you?” She hadn’t, she knew, so she continued on, “Well anyways now I’m leaving Saturday morning.”

“Great, now I won’t have to spend my last day here bored out of my mind without you, Simmons.”

She nodded distractedly as she played with a loose thread on the hem of her blouse. I really am an awful person, she thought. After all, she’d just lied to her best friend. 

~~~~~~~~~

“What the hell!” Fitz shouted up into his phone. “Simmons, are you seeing this nonsense?” He gestured to the window even though he knew Simmons couldn’t see him.

“What do you mean, Fitz?” 

“Look out your window.”

“What- oh my. Well I knew we were getting a cold front today, but this is quite surprising.” 

“Suprising!” Fitz’s voice cracked but he prevailed regardless, “It’s snowing in the frelling summer! It’s mid-May, Simmons. We were picnicking in shorts just last week and now it’s like it’s bloody December already.”

“Oh stop complaining. It’s rather pretty, don’t you think? Besides, you’re leaving in a few hours anyways. Now, are we still on for breakfast downtown, or is this snow going to keep you indoors until you leave for the airport?”

“See you in ten.” He hung up the phone and continued rummaging through his box of clothes that he’d thought unnecessary to have on hand, which included all his warmer clothes. Finally, he found a warm sweater and slipped it on. 

By the time he made it to the little diner downtown, Simmons already had a table and was sipping a glass of orange juice.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He said, sliding into the boot.

“It’s rather sad to see everyone leaving, isn’t it? Everything’s so quiet.”

“Yeah, eerily so. Sorry you’ll have to be here a few days on your own.”

“It’s not your fault, Fitz, and it’s only a few days. I’ll survive somehow.”

“Still.”

“I know.” She took another sip of her juice. “Did you finish packing all the last minute things?”

“Yup, just have to throw my phone charger in my duffle.”

“Great.”

~~~~~~~~~

They walked back to Fitz’s dorm together. The taxi would be there soon to take Fitz to the airport since neither of them had car on campus nor knew another cadet with a car well enough. 

“I’ll miss you this summer, Fitz.” She allowed herself to say.

“Me, too, Jems. But, hey, no feeling dour. We can arrange sometime to see each other when we’re both across the pond.”

She nodded, quietly. Fitz seemed to notice her overly mournful expression and pulled her into a hug. Tears welled in her eyes as much as she tried to stop them. Fitz noticed.

“Jemma, it’ll be fine.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to fall, nodded, and swiped at her eyes for good measure.

They were interrupted by the taxi pulling up. Wordlessly, Jemma helped load Fitz’s bags into the trunk. Then, Fitz pulled her in for one last hug before he got into the taxi.

She watched the yellow car until it disappeared over the crest of the hill. 


	2. Flights and Fights

“Hello, you’ve reached Jemma Simmons. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

After the inevitable beep that followed, Fitz spoke, “Hey Simmons, it’s me. Look, my flight got cancelled because of the snow after being delayed a couple million times today. I’m getting a cab back to campus, but I had to clear out of my room by today. Hoping to crash at your place. Let me know and I hope you’re not already asleep. See you soon.”

By the time Fitz was back on campus, it was well past midnight and he was exhausted. He’d rescheduled his flight with the gate agent after waiting in a line with disgruntled, tired passengers hoping to do the same. The flight for Friday was quickly filling with the passengers ahead of him, so he opted for the Saturday flight so that he and Jemma could go to the airport together. Now, he just wanted to sleep. Luckily, he knew Jemma usually left her door unlocked- something not unheard of in dorms with SHIELD security. He hated to go in without asking, but he’d fallen asleep in her room countless times after they’d been working all night on some project or other.

~~~~~~~~~

Jemma did not expect to wake up to see Fitz lying on the couch, his suitcases by the door. She checked her phone and listened to the message. Well then. Since he was still asleep and no doubt exhausted judging by how late he’d been up, she started a pot of water for some tea. 

~~~~~~~~~

The piercing shriek of a kettle boiling woke Fitz. He stretched and rubbed his eyes, yawning as he did so. Simmons must already be up. He turned off the kettle and fetched their mugs from her cabinet. Just as he was adding a spoonful of honey to Jemma’s tea, the door opened. Simmons walked in in her bathrobe, shower caddy in hand.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

“Uh, hi. You got my message? You were sleeping when I got in and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Yes. Sorry about your flight. What time do you have to leave for the airport today?”

“I actually chose the Saturday flight, this way we could go over to the airport together.” He brought their tea over to the couch.

She took her cup from him and plopped gracefully onto the couch. “Oh, Fitz, that’s so sweet of you, but I’m afraid when I looked last night, my flight got pushed back due to all the delays.”

“Well, looks like the weather’s all clear now. No more crazy snow. But it’s still pretty windy. We should check on our flights again.” He pulled up the webpage on his phone. “What’s your flight number?”

“I can’t recall.”

“Simmons, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, why would you think anything’s the matter.”

“You never forget flight numbers and this is the third time your flight’s been delayed yet you’re perfectly calm.”

“I- uh- Fitz, really, it’s nothing. If I seem calm it’s only because I’m worrying about it on my own.”

“Well want me to go grab your flight number from your papers on your bedside table so you can sit and enjoy your tea?”

“No, it’s fine; I’ll look later.”

“Simmons.”

“Fitz.” 

He sighed. “Jemma, just tell me what’s going on.”

She swallowed and looked into her mug of tea, swirling the tea leaves at the bottom. “I’m not going home this summer.”


	3. Why, How, and Who?

“But Simmons, it’s summer vacation! Time to take a break from the SHIELD research and do other research.”

“It’s not that, Fitz. It’s complicated.” Jemma knew that ‘complicated’ was a filler word for a lot of things. She also knew Fitz wouldn’t let this go. 

“Well what is it, Jemma?” His voice had a slight edge to it now, a mix between angry and distressed. “You lied to me about your flight twice. What’s so awful that you couldn’t tell me?”

“Fitz, I’ve told you, it’s complicated. It’s just better if I stay here this summer.” She stood abruptly and went to wash her mug out in the sink. 

“Well if you don’t want to talk about why you’re staying here, at least tell me how.”

That she could do. “I’ve gotten summer housing. I’ll be living in a house with some other SciOps cadets. Some Communications people are here this summer to train, too. Professor Weaver said she’d be happy to have me stay on to work on some SHIELD projects as well as my own projects. Besides that, I’m working as an RA in order for SHIELD to cover my summer housing costs. And the research pays enough to cover groceries. It’ll be quite pleasant, actually.”

Fitz was just looking at her with a sad, puzzled expression. She didn’t like seeing that look on his face, so she turned her gaze to the window. The snow had stopped, but the skies were still a moody, almost foreboding gray. But maybe that was just her projecting her own feelings onto the sky. She’d had quite enough of pitying looks in her time. She didn’t need them from Fitz, too.

“Jemma,” Fitz whispered, “I’m just trying to understand.”

Fitz needed a reason. She couldn’t blame him. After all, they were both scientists and liked knowing the reasons and logic behind everything. She thought for a few moments, then settled on her answer. 

“Well, my parents downsized when I left for SHIELD. They’ve moved a couple towns over to a smaller house and I wouldn’t have had a place to stay. It saves everyone trouble if I just stay here.” She nodded slightly when she finished, whether to reassure Fitz or herself she didn’t know.

“Fine.” Fitz grabbed the dish towel to dry the mug she’d still been absent-mindedly rinsing. “I know that’s not the whole reason, but if you’d rather not talk about it-“ He paused as if to let her jump in to protest, but she remained silent. “- then I guess that’s your choice.” 

“Thanks, Fitz.”

“Now, enough of this. How about some Who?”

Smiling, Jemma said, “Allons-y!” 

~~~~~~~~~

Jemma closed her eyes. She could picture the scenes to go along with her favorite episode as she heard the dialogue. 

_Oh, such a lonely childhood._

Yes, Jemma knew what that was like- to be alone for what was her whole life at the time, until she met Fitz.

_It’ll pass._

If only. She was still a child, in spirit and in fact, still several weeks away from her 18th birthday. She wanted to believe the Doctor’s words, but she had not outgrown the monsters from her childhood.

_Lonely then and lonelier now! How can you bear it?_

Because she must, because she always had. 

“Jem, are you asleep?”

She opened her eyes. Why had she been so caught up in her thoughts that she missed out on appreciating the present? “No, sorry, just resting my eyes.”

“Oh, of course.” He pulled the fleece up over them some more.

She closed her eyes once more and this time, she let the words of the Doctor and Rose and the girl in the fireplace fade. She worked on memorizing this: The way Fitz’s shoulder was the most comfortable pillow she’d ever know. How she always felt so tired in his arms because she could finally relax. The soft sound of his even breaths. The way his arm wrapped around her. The way he would sometimes lean his head towards her, so that his cheek rested on her forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I hope to be writing more regularly now that my schedule is less hectic. Anyways, your comments are my motivation, so tell me what you think!


	4. Home

Fitz was unsure what to do. Jemma was now asleep on his shoulder, despite what she’d said earlier. He couldn’t focus on the television; he was too caught up in why Jemma wouldn’t be going home. Something must be seriously wrong. Who would miss the opportunity to see their family after being away so long? Though he was happy to be spending a couple extra days with Jemma, he missed his mother and his childhood home. It would be nice to spend the summer back home, enjoying the home cooked food and company that he’d missed. 

The episode drew to a close. It was nearly dinnertime now. Unfortunately, he was stuck unless he wanted to wake Jemma. She’d be mad at him for not waking her, but how could he when she looked so peaceful? Maybe if he moved her head to the sofa’s armrest?

“Fitz?” A sleepy voice said, “Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep after all.”

“It’s not a problem. Go back to sleep and I’ll run out to get dinner.”

“I’ve got food in the cabinets. No need.”

He nodded. He knew that now that Jemma was awake, she wouldn’t go back to napping. Sure enough, he watched her go to the cabinets and pull out various ingredients.

“Alfredo and garlic bread sound alright, Fitz?”

“Sounds lovely.”

A half hour later, the meal was ready. They had settled back on the couch and picked another Dr. Who episode to watch. Unsurprisingly, the pasta was slightly overcooked and the alfredo sauce was a bit too oily. Jemma had always had rotten luck with cooking skills- not that he was any better.

“Fitz?”

“Mm?”

“I truly am sorry that I didn’t tell you I was staying sooner.”

“It’s alright, Jemma. I’m just worried about you.” 

“I’ll be fine, really.”

“Jemma, I can hear the sadness in your voice. Please just tell me why you’re not going home.”

“Oh, Fitz, don’t you see? This is home. Well at least for the next couple of weeks until I move into a similar room across campus for the summer housing.”

“I love being here at SHIELD, too, but home is still home.”

“But my parents have left my home. Whatever I’d be going back to, it wouldn’t be my home.”

“Home isn’t a place; it’s family.”

“For some people, certainly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, just-” She paused, “nothing.”

He sighed again. Maybe she just had a hard time talking about it. That seemed to be the indication anyway. He had an idea.

“Jemma, how about once I’ve left for Scotland, you write me a letter- the old fashioned kind, mind you- and explain. It might be easier than just saying it. If you want to.”

She didn’t reply right away, but after several minutes of thinking it over, she replied, “I suppose that’s probably a good idea.”

“Right. Good. And if you change your mind, don’t worry about it.” He tried to be as nonchalant as possible even though he wanted desperately to know what was troubling her. If he knew, then maybe he could help to fix it. He’d always been good at fixing things; it’s why he was an engineer. 

“Thanks, Fitz.”

“Of course. What are best friends for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter. Comments are very much appreciated. :)


	5. Jemma's Letter

_Dear Fitz,_

_I don’t really know where to start. You’ve made it safely back to Scotland by now and I’m still at SHIELD. Things are going well. I’m starting to pack up some things so I can move a few buildings over for summer housing. My research for Weaver starts on Monday and I’m quite excited._

_Anyways, I suppose I really should get to the point. You want to know why I consider SHIELD more my home than my house in England. It’s so hard to explain it. Sometimes my memories seem so distant that it’s hard to see what really happened. You’ve known me since we both started at SHIELD, but we’ve never really talked about our childhoods much, have we?_

_I wish I could tell you how it began; I can’t pinpoint when it started, but I know when it ended. In my last year left at home, I was getting ready to leave. At the time, I had no clue where. Let’s just say I couldn’t wait to get away. The number of nights I dreamt of simply running away- it was tempting. I remember sneaking out my window and walking to the park to read at all hours of the night. Often, I’d just sit under a huge oak tree that was near the heart of the park and simply think for hours on end before sneaking back into my house just after dawn. Ah, but I’m dodging the main point still, aren’t I? You’ll have to forgive me; I really am quite awful at talking about this, even when I’m writing._

_My parents liked me just fine when I was young. After all, I was a smart child who they could parade around to impress people. At the time, I didn’t see it as that. I just thought they were so proud of me. As I got older and more independent, though, I became more of an annoyance. I didn’t get along with rigid school administrations, nor did I abide by their illogical rules. By secondary school, I was effectively parenting myself and I didn’t mind much after I got used to it. When I started to talk about going away to college, the fights started. They always began as “discussions,” but my parents’ tones of voice made it clear that they had formed their opinions already. The discussions devolved into yelling and tears and slammed doors and walking out of the house. I began to keep a stock of crackers and water bottles hidden behind an old dollhouse so I could avoid leaving my room and facing their harsh words. If there was any concern that I hadn’t left my room in days, I didn’t hear it._

_After I left, we hardly talked. They sent disapproving letters with the required financial support, since I’m still a minor, but that’s it. They sold the house and moved into a smaller one, so I don’t have a room anymore. Whatever my unchildlike childhood was, it’s gone now._

_I know this isn’t a fun letter to read. It wasn’t fun to write, Fitz. But now that that’s through, tell me how Scotland is! Have you been back to your favorite zoo yet? And how’s your Mum?_

_Yours tuly,_  
Jemma Simmons  
  
~~~~~~~~~

Fitz held the envelope and letter in his hands. He could tell by the trace of eraser marks, that it had been revised many times. How had they never talked about her family? She knew all about his. He had a letter of his own to write.


	6. Unpacking

Jemma turned her box fan up to the highest power. She was down to her last large box, and only had a few smaller boxes left to unpack in her new room for summer housing. Presently, she was reassembling her bookshelf. It was something she was rather proud of for no good reason. She’d salvaged it from a local yard sale. It was cracked, yellowing, plastic, but it was also only a dollar. After a liberal use of bleach and some white duct tape to seal the larger cracks, she’d purchased a lovely roll of light blue tape to cover the edges. It looked rather fashionable, if she did say so herself, and it was lightweight enough that she could carry it easily on her own across campus. Which she had done. Along with her other things. (An operations cadet had helped her with her mini fridge and box of cookware.)

With yet another wipe of her brow, she pushed the last horizontal shelf piece onto its supports. How was it this hot out? Though dinnertime was already past, the sun was still shining and for some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working. If only Fitz were here, she thought, he’d have the air conditioning fixed in no time. Oh well. She began stacking her copious collection of books on the shelves, sipping a glass of lemonade from time to time. None of her housemates had moved in yet, luckily, so she’d gotten her pick of the rooms. Hers had four windows, two of which faced west. She was looking forward to the sunsets she could watch.

Just then, she heard a thud outside the door, a key turning in the lock.   
“You can set that box over there,” a female voice said in the next room, “I’m going to go find my room.”

Jemma heard the footsteps approach the end of the hallway, which split into two ends, with two rooms on either end. The footsteps approached closer.

A male voice called out, “Where do you want these?” The guy had a British accent, which was surprising.

The girl’s voice answered, “Down the hall, on your right.”

A few moments later, the owner of the British voice turned the handle of her door and, upon seeing her shelving her books, said, “Well you’re not Bob.”

She stood, dusting off her pants. “I’m Jemma- Jemma Simmons.”

“Hunter. Nice to meet you. And nice accent, love.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“Hunter?” A tall blonde walked into the room.

Jemma offered her hand. “Hi, I’m Jemma. You’re living here for the summer?”

“Bobbi, and yeah.” She turned to the guy, Hunter, and said, “Would you mind bringing in the rest of the boxes? I want to get to know Jemma, here.”

“Sure thing, Bobs.” He gave a mock salute and ambled out of the room. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Jemma asked, “A glass of lemonade?”

“That’s alright; I’ve got water.” She held up a water bottle bearing the operations academy logo.

“You’re operations?” Jemma was surprised. Ops cadets usually didn’t come to SciOps for the summer.

“Yes, but I studied biology, so I want to get some lab training, too.”

“That’s great! I’m biochem.”

“Awesome, you’ll have to show me around the labs sometime.”

“Of course.”

“Great, well, I’d better go help Hunter.” She winked and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~~~~~  
> Fitz: Ask them for comments.  
> Jemma: No! Thats impolite!  
> Fitz: But the author really really wants comments.  
> Me: This is true.  
> Jemma: Don't be ridiculous, Fitz.


	7. Engineering

What is Simmons doing right now? Every so often, he’d find his thoughts drifting across the Atlantic to his friend. He mentally calculated the time difference and tried to guess what she’d be doing at that time. It was more comforting to think of her now than thinking of that letter. He still hadn’t responded, though he promised each and every day that today would be the day he buckled down and wrote a response.

To be perfectly honest with himself, he didn’t know what to say. He felt guilty for never having asked about her family or childhood much. He felt hurt that she hadn’t trusted him enough to share it with him. He was angry at her parents. He was impressed with how relatively little it seemed to affect her. And there was something else he felt, but he couldn’t quite pin down what it was. 

What was he supposed to say? If he were with her, he could make her tea with kettle corn. It was a small gesture, to be sure, but it had never failed to cheer her up in the past. And then they’d talk about her childhood some more and he could begin to understand, even if it was difficult. Now though, the bloody ocean separated them. 

He had been trying to keep himself busy with work, which wasn’t too difficult. The engineering firm he was interning with had him shadowing one of their lead engineers, who was currently working on designs for an innovative prosthetic solutions company. In exchange for doing a lot of the brute force work on engineering projects, Fitz got access to the company’s lab after hours. The equipment in the electronics lab alone was astounding. Spools of various types of wire hung on the wall. A few 3D printers lined the far wall. Bins of circuit boards, batteries, chips, tools, and anything else he could have hoped for filled the shelves. He even had his own workbench, with enough open space for hardware projects and a digital 3D design suite to use for projects as small as microchip designs to projects that wouldn’t have fit in the building. 

Right now, his own personal project that he pursued whenever he had a free moment were some additions to standard drone models for a variety of tasks. He’d made a fair bit of progress so far, but there was still so much more he wanted to do. At least he was making progress with this, even though the geographic barrier betwixt him and Simmons was making the letter harder to write than a tedious report on a fellow engineer’s design proposal. (That had been a nightmare. Trying to be thorough without coming off as the overly critical intern was challenging.)

Unbidden, a saying popped into his mind that Simmons often repeated whenever he insisted a particular design problem was impossible: _Fitz, whenever you’ve got a problem, take a look at what’s actually stopping you from doing what you wish you could._

That was it. Flipping to a fresh page in his notebook, he began jotting down ideas, hoping that his supervisor was taking a long lunch today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. I'll admit, writing Jemma is much easier for me, so if you ever have suggestions or critiques (especially on my Fitz chapters) please let me know. Also comments in general just make me especially happy.


	8. The Morning Spell

“Two is you, Bobs. Drink up.”

“Damn it, Hunter.” 

You wouldn’t have guessed it was nearly midnight by the high volume drinking game going on in the spare room. It had turned out the both Bobbi and Hunter here. Apparently Bobbi was so sought after that SHIELD was letting her boyfriend(?) stay for the summer to do basic SHIELD training. The fourth person living in their house was a guy named Antoine but called himself Trip who had moved in a couple days ago. He was working on his medical training this summer. He was a couple years ahead of her at the Academy. 

So why the spare room? Well, Hunter had moved his bed into Bobbi’s room to make one giant bed, so the last room was basically empty, save the desk and set of drawers.

Drunken laughter rang out from the other room. She had no idea why all three of her housemates would want to stay up doing something so foolish when they all had SHIELD stuff, be it research or training, in the morning. Sighing, she got up to go to the kitchen. If it was too loud to sleep, she might as well start reading some of the papers Weaver had asked her to look over. Unfortunately, to get to the kitchen, she had to pass the spare room.

“Simmons!” said Trip, “Come join us!”

“Oh, thanks, but I’m about to go to sleep.”

She continued on to the kitchen, getting out the small pot and setting some water on to boil. As she waited somewhat impatiently for the water to boil, she heard the others playing cards and talking amiably. Part of her thought she should go and be sociable, even if it was the antithesis of her usual scene. The other part said that they already probably thought she was uptight and, well, she was, so why bother trying to fake it at the cost of her own discomfort.

They bubbles on the bottom of her pot started to collect and rise to the top. She poured the water into her mug and stirred in the honey, letting the tea steep. Retreating to her room, she kept her head down. Her papers, notebook, and collection of colored pens would be her company for the evening.

~~~~~~~~~

At 5:45 on the dot, her alarm clock began playing its cheery song. 

_There is no way I’m looking for a boyfriend. There is no way I’m looking for a scene…_

It was midmorning for Fitz, already. He’d already be at work. She still had several hours, though. Plenty of time for a shower, a hot breakfast, and to go over her schedule. Fitz always said she was crazy for waking up so early, but it was so nice to be up when no one else was. There was something about that tentative morning quiet that seemed like a spell waiting to break. 

So, she was surprised when Antoine walked into the main room around 6:30. 

“Oh, good morning, Antoine.”

“Morning, Simmons. And call me Trip.”

“Right, Trip. Got it.”

“Whatever you’re making smells great.”

“Thanks. It’s just blueberry pancakes, though. If you’d like one, it’d be no trouble to make some more.”

“Sounds great. I’ll be right back; I’m going to pack up my stuff for the day.”

She nodded, folding some blueberries into the pancake batter. 

By the time Trip had returned, she set out the small stacks of mini blueberry pancakes on two of her yellow plates. A thin pat of butter sat on top of them and the bottle of syrup was on the table. Her glass had orange juice. 

“Wow, Simmons, this looks incredible.” He got some milk from the from the fridge. “Tell you what, I’ll make breakfast tomorrow.”

“Oh, it’s no problem.”

“Please, it’s the least I can do. How does omelet sound?”

“It sounds lovely. Thank you.”

They ate the rest of their breakfasts in silence.


	9. Playing Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, look! I finally got a chance to finish this chapter. Sorry for the delay, my lovelies. Enjoy!

The automated email stuck out amongst the scholarly correspondences in her email like a sore thumb. It said she had a package, which was strange considering that she hadn’t ordered anything. Glancing at her watch, she reasoned that she was due for a break from her microscope work, though she knew it was just her curiosity demanding an answer.

Luckily the mail room was in the next building over from her lab, so it was a short walk before she was at the package window.

“I have a package in the postal flat; my box number is 3141.”

The woman at the counter went to the shelf in the back and returned with a box roughly the size of a shoebox, covered with a considerable number of stamps. It was from Fitz. After two and a half weeks of not hearing anything, she’d gotten quite worried that her letter had scared him off. Rationally, she’d reassured herself that Fitz didn’t scare that easily, that he cared about her. She could feel her hope rising as she thought about opening the box. What was in it? Why a box and not a letter? Why had it taken so long to hear anything?

Returning to her lab, she fetched a pair of scissors to open the box. Inside was souvenir mug from Fitz favorite zoo. It had some monkeys on it. Inside the mug was a package of her favorite tea from England, a bag of kettle corn to be popped, and a letter.

_Hi Simmons,_

_Sorry it’s taken me so long to write. I kept starting to write stuff, but I couldn’t ever make it sound right. You’re right that your letter wasn’t fun to read, but thanks for writing it. I can’t believe we never talked about your parents all those nights. I wish I knew what to say. But the truth is that I don’t. Anyways, I got you some tea and kettle corn, though I ‘spose you already know that now._

_My mum, Scotland, and the zoo are all great. And next time you can’t go home for a break, you should come with me to Scotland. I know SHIELD is great, but you shouldn’t be stuck anywhere._

_Best,  
Fitz _

It was short but it was something. And oddly enough that something was exactly what she’d needed.

~~~~~~~~~

“Simmons, are you joining us tonight?” Trip gestured to the drinks and cards on the table. 

“Not tonight, but thanks. I’ve got some data to go over this evening.” 

“You’re just all work and no fun, aren’t you?” He chuckled.

“Ah, but data analysis is fun.” she said, half joking.

“Well, I’ll let you get to it. But if you finish early, you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Got it, thanks.”

Retreating to her room, she opened her computer. She did actually have data analysis to do, but it could wait until tomorrow. Opening google hangouts, she messaged Fitz:

Me: Fitz! Thank you so much for the mug and snacks! I love it.

Fitz: Glad it got there ok.

Me: I do have one complaint. Your letter didn’t even mention what kind of work you’re getting to do with your internship.

Fitz: It’s going well. They’re having me do a lot of the practical work on a bunch of projects from prosthetics to planes. 

Me: Sounds like some great experience. 

Fitz: Yeah.

Offscreen, Jemma sighed. It was so much easier to talk in person. 

Me: So tell me what else you’ve been up to this summer. 

Fitz: Nothing really. Just work.

Me: Oh, well that’s cool.

Fitz: How about you?

Me: Mostly work, too. 

Fitz: Nice. Well I’ve got to get to sleep. It’s late here and I’ve got work tomorrow.

Me: Ok, goodnight.

Fitz: Night, Simmons.

She closed the window. That had been quick, leaving her with nothing but data to do. And she wasn’t quite in the mood for that. She laid in bed for a bit pondering her life and watched an episode of Girl Meets World. What could she say? She liked it, even if it was meant for children. Then it was over and she still wasn’t remotely tired or interested in doing analysis.

Perhaps… no, she shouldn’t. She wouldn’t enjoy it. It was frivolous. A waste of time. Foolish. Dangerous, even. Still, she was so very bored and her conversation (or lack thereof) with Fitz had left her feeling somewhat reckless. 

Easing open her door, she found the three of her housemates playing cards and drinking. Well, she thought, at least I’ll have the experience. 

“Good news.” she said, entering the room, “I finished the data stuff I had to do.”

Trip gestured to the empty chair next to him. “Great, we’re almost done with this hand.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Wait, you’re still only 17?” Hunter said, incredulously.

Several hours and drinking games later (though Jemma stuck to lemonade the entire time), the games had devolved into talking.

“I’m turning 18 next week.” Jemma said. Every still looked dumbfounded.

“Well,” began Trip, “I guess that means we’re having a real party next week.” 

“Oh, uh-“

“What day is your birthday?” Bobbi asked?

“It’s on Tuesday.”

“Great,” she said matter-of-factly, “we’ll have the party on Saturday, then.”

Jemma was confused to why Bobbi had asked for her birthday if she was going to plan it on a typical party night anyways. She was also confused at how she’d ended up sitting at this table and in this conversation at 2am. 

Soon the conversation wound its way to other topics and before long Jemma excused herself to go to bed. It was a while before she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write more stuff from Fitz's perspective, but he is so much harder for me to write, so I'm expecting this story to be mostly from Jemma's side.


End file.
